What's in a Name?
by Femme27
Summary: This is a new story that begins on "Adoption Day." It will probably become an AU and will definitely focus on Callie's relationship with her moms. I'm not great at summaries, but, if you liked "Escape," I hope that you will give this one a shot also :)
1. Chapter 1

**What's in a Name?**

She had always secretly coveted her middle name, that rare syllable which rolled on the tongue like fancy chocolate. It had the indelible taste of singular identity. Yet, in mere seconds, seemingly in spite of her, it bequeathed the bitterest turmoil.

_Robert Quinn. _

How could she not have known? All of these years… shouldn't she have felt the invisible threads that bind, the phantom pangs of a missing limb? She involuntarily swayed on her feet as yet another tenuous column upholding her tangible existence crumbled and ashes rose to take its place, spoiling the air with contemptuous satisfaction. It must be her heart that was choking now, for, in the vast and blackened wasteland of her familiar isolation, Callie registered a cold numbness spreading through her somnolent frame.

She knew that they were watching her. Everyone was watching her… waiting for her to move, to speak, to breathe… but Callie's body had already ascended the uninvited scene; her core had become unfettered, and her feet were kicking in premeditated, metaphorical flight.

With one glimpse of Jude's face, however, of his eyes swimming in a united loneliness, she found the floor again. She just had to reassure her baby, and then she could escape. Then she could breathe.

She doesn't remember what she said to him, her sweet boy, but she can see her fingers clenching the exit now, and she trusts internally, undoubtedly, that two steps forward will circumvent her impending collision and that two more after that will help her to forget that there had been one already.

**A/N: **I'm sorry that this is really short. I'll be able to update more regularly soon, assuming that you like the idea? :)


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as the crisp air entered her lungs, Callie's nerves steadied- yet not her resolve. Her sights remained transfixed on the grassy knoll across the active street, and on the quiet pavement which wound into the wooded unknown beyond it; where the asphalt glistened like yellow brick, calling softly, "follow me."

Since her eyes had maintained their rigid fixity on the symbolic EXIT as though it was a watery mirage, and her feet were abiding in happy pursuit, she had not detected the blonde cop who was quietly tracking her into the afternoon sun.

She was barely distracted by the blares of provoked car horns either, and, if she were clear-headed enough to register it, she would have also recognized her own name, the one that still made sense, in the frantic echoes that shadowed her.

But it wasn't until her feet hit the turf on the other side of the divide that Callie realized what she was doing: what she promised she would not do again. As a sob lodged in her throat, she dropped down in sudden, crushing defeat, her nyloned knees sinking into the hydrated sod. Her palms found her lips in just enough time to muffle an irrepressible howl, and, with her figure inverted protectively, she watched the sludgy water slink up her thighs like a virulent disease, its message grasped by even her muddied mind. _She_ was obviously diseased. Why else would so many people that held claims of ownership have rejected her? The number of those who were _supposed_ to have loved her and failed was only increasing.

She barely had time to wallow in this new statistic, this new red mark on her heart's file, however, when a familiar body plopped beside her.

Callie's misery rapidly transformed into mortification as she worriedly endeavored to wipe her cheeks and to straighten her posture.

"I'm sorry," she breathed in embarrassment, running her hands over the silk of her newly purchased dress in an attempt to smooth its wrinkles. She avoided the eyes that she knew were focused on her again, the ones that always seemed to penetrate her walls and to find her centered weakness.

The stillness that answered her apology, and the concerned gaze that she felt openly upon her, only intensified Callie's desire to disappear into the ground beneath her, to be swallowed up by the shame that consistently lurked, bidding its time, poised to pounce in the moment which she would resent its presence the most.

"Well, this isn't the best place for a picnic, kid," Stef smiled kindly, willing Callie to meet her reflection, "but you know what they say," she continued after a second's silence, tilting back onto her elbows for support and gazing up at the cloudless sky, "where ever you go, I will follow."

In truth, Stef was terrified by Callie's breakaway, and her heart had nearly stopped upon witnessing her daughter absentmindedly plow through traffic as though she were capable of parting the Red Sea, yet incapable of any injury that might result. If they had adopted Callie as a girl, she and Lena would probably have had to attach her to the child-leash that every good parent mocked. Honestly, it didn't seem like such a deplorable idea, even now.

It wasn't hard to guess what had caused this particular run from reality, which is why Stef had followed Callie without question to the door of the courthouse. Their revelation had produced a swift revolution of Callie's demeanor and a desolation that slowly filled her brown eyes; the current of her emotion threatening to drown them all. As Callie turned to leave, Lena gripped the skin of her wife's bicep in unspoken trepidation, and Stef had responded with reassuring movement. _Yes, _her confident stride seemed to say, _she would go get their baby and bring her back safely._

Now, with each passing minute, Callie felt a sense of foolishness grow upon her. _How long could she possibly stare at the muck and pray that it would bury her pain? _She deserved a monument, she thought, a marker that could hold all of the grief that controlled her like a marionette master; a personal gravestone that she could kick and dance upon in triumph. But, Callie felt no triumph. She felt only herself sinking under the weight of solitary hopelessness.

"You're starting to scare me a little bit, love." Stef pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned towards Callie, brushing wispy curls behind her ears. "Will you talk to me, please?"

At this request, Callie finally leveled her gaze and floated in the piercing blue ocean that unwaveringly returned her stare. She found herself awed by the impression; being in Stef's company reminded her of learning how to swim, was like being thrown into the deep end and discovering that the inflatable arm bands she had resisted for so long were in fact going to hold her head above water.

Breaking the contact, the indiscernible chain that connected them like no DNA strand ever had, Callie's eyes traveled over her foster mother, landing on the dark water stains at her elbows. Before she could stop herself or assess the rationality of her words, Callie burst out in an incongruous snort, "You're diseased too."

After a flash of bewilderment, Stef wrapped her arms around Callie's shoulders and pulled the girl into her embrace. "Well, then, I guess we're a match made in heaven, huh?"

**A/N: **I'm sorry that this chapter isn't much longer than the previous one, but it takes me forever to be proud of what I've written, and I don't want to disappoint anyone! Please let me know what you think... I'm also not sure where to go with the story after Stef and Callie's conversation is finished. Is there something that you'd like to see? Suggestions are welcomed! Thank you all! :)


	3. Chapter 3

They were sprawled across Stef's jacket now, because she had insisted that it was 100% machine-washable, and Callie was obstinately plucking at the tall blades of grass scattered around them, uprooting their futures as cruelly as her own was upended in the minutes prior. The repetitive motion kept her from relapsing into disconsolate tears. She felt utterly imprisoned by the square plot that they currently squatted on; she had vowed not to flee again, so the once-beckoning oasis that lay ahead was no longer a viable option, and the clerk had made it abundantly clear that there was no legal, rightful place for her back at the courthouse, yet the here-and-now wasn't entirely comfortable either. _How did Stef and Lena always discern her vulnerability? Why couldn't she ever truly hide from these women? _Most importantly,_ how could she possibly begin to explain the emotions that contended inside of her?_

"I don't want to disregard any progress, Callie," Stef started softly, tickling her daughter's arm gently, the one that wasn't busy yanking weeds, in an effort to convey her sincerity and to gain attention, "because I know that you wanted to… I know that you stopped yourself from…" she grappled with the words, frowning at her inability to express the significance of what Callie had _not_ done, "… from leaving us…and I am _incredibly_ thankful for that."

Stef understood, logically, that Callie's motivation was established in childhood and that the habit had served the girl well over her near-decade in the system, but she could never shake how intensely personal it felt to observe her oldest prefer a greyhound bus ticket to a potentially painful conversation. It stung, plain and simple. _Didn't Callie trust her? _She sought her child's eyes now, unreservedly wishing to communicate all of the love and appreciation that her previous point may have lacked. When she saw her sentiments comfortingly mirrored in response, however, her fingers ceased their soothing trek and seized the teen's forearm firmly instead.

"But, sweetheart, you may NOT go running through traffic like you did today. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? I know that you were upset, love, but why didn't you turn around? I was calling your name…" Stef sighed gravely, lumbering upright and passing a hand through her pale locks in restrained dissatisfaction. She sensed Callie rise beside her in repentant reply, but she wasn't finished yet. "Do you know how absolutely petrified I was, thinking that you would be hit? That was not OK, Callie."

At this, the brunette scooted up to the speaker in placating sympathy, arranging their legs in snug, parallel lines, and laid her head contritely on Stef's shoulder, knowing full well the melting effect that it would yield but not performing for that particular incentive.

"You snot!" Stef retorted, appreciating the opportunity to cuddle her generally remote daughter, even in spite of the unambiguous manipulation. "You know that I'm mad at you, right?" she hissed into Callie's temple with a grin, peppering the youth's head and cheeks with obnoxious smooches and eliciting a few spontaneous giggles from the sullen recipient.

The sun had sunk peacefully during the short exchange, and its rays were now playfully bounding across the windows of the high rises enfolding the pair, creating a prism of light that affectionately centered them on the transient haven.

"Yes, I know…" the adolescent finally intoned with insight beyond her years, "and I'm sorry. I really am. I just… I… all I want is a piece of paper… that's not too much to ask, is it?" Callie shrugged in a half-heartedly feigned nonchalance upon the pronouncement, glancing up at Stef with an unconscious yearning for permission; if she were aware of her purpose in seeking the contact, Callie would decipher its stem in more than one insecurity: she craved both validation of her desires and of her authorization to assign those desires a voice. The uncompromising security that she perceived in her foster mother's reciprocal countenance, and in her calming squeeze, presented Callie with the sudden power to liberate her veiled fears. Welcoming the warmth that she felt radiating from beside her, she spoke candidly and with unintended malice, "I feel like… nothing… nothing ever works out, you know? Like the whole freaking universe is against me."

She straightened instinctively now, pulling out of the relaxed embrace before it expelled her without warning. Stef turned to her in genuine surprise.

"It's OK to be angry, you know. We're mad too, bug. We wanted that 'piece of paper' today, for you and for your brother, more than we have wanted anything else in a long time. It just isn't fair, is it? I feel like we've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting… I'm so sick of waiting that I could SCREAM!" Stef had an impish glint in her eyes, but Callie intuited the authenticity of her sentiment nonetheless.

And it unhinged her.

She did not attempt to halt the fresh tumble of tears that increasingly trickled off her chin like the onset of a tremendous storm. The girl had truthfully assumed that the document held little value to anyone other than Jude or herself, and Stef's open admission of their shared burden set her very heart ablaze.

"I want this more than I have ever wanted anything in my whole life," Callie admitted, whispering with both burning humiliation and wild abandonment.

**A/N:** I apologize for the delay in my update, and/or if it seems like this chapter ended abruptly, but I'm really excited to share my excuse! So, my lovely state of Wisconsin finally saw fit to legalize equal rights this week, and, yesterday, after eight years of being together, my girlfriend and I GOT MARRIED! We are so happy! We even got matching wrist tattoos of the date in roman numerals! YAY :) Feel free to send me some feedback, by the way! I always stalk my reviews obsessively after updating… does that tell you how much your comments mean to me?!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I used some of Rita's words in this chapter, because I think that her message is important to Callie's character development, but I made them my own as much as possible!

"Then we fight," Stef pledged devotedly, swiping her thumb tenderly across her daughter's features in a futile effort to erase the hurt that slid down sculpted skin; she cradled the teen's chin in her softly calloused palm, raising Callie's perspective to greet the girl's red-rimmed eyes with an encouraging smile. "We should never stop fighting for what we want, for what we _deserve_, because the truth, baby, is that the universe isn't against anybody, even if it feels that way. Life is indiscriminately good and bad, and it flips on a dime; if you start searching for all of the ways in which life has disappointed you, my love, then you won't come up empty-handed." She pinched Callie's cheek fondly before lowering her limb and intertwining their fingers earnestly, "but, if you keep your eyes open for all of the good around you, sweets, then you will see that life has not failed to furnish you with a fair share of its beauty as well."

Stef smirked with sudden mischievousness following this declaration, unable to stop herself from adlibbing, "why, in fact, there is beauty directly in front of you…" Squeezing and releasing Callie's hand, she spread her arms wide, clearly indicating her own person, "and I just _DARE_ you to deny it!" She pounced with confident glee now, poking playfully at Callie, who, unsuspecting of the attack, let out a peel of genuine laughter.

"But I always lose," cold realism interrupted, "and, before, I had Jude. Now, losing could mean leaving him behind too. Don't get me wrong; this is what I want for him… it really is. He deserves this, and I… I am just so tired of losing. I don't know how much fight I have left in me." The first part of Callie's proclamation was masked by residual giggles, but her final remarks bathed them both in somber silence.

Stef gazed at the formidable building that loomed before them and eclipsed the sun, so haughty in its demeanor and imposing in its height that it seemed to stare at the pair in maniacal derision, mocking each hapless endeavor which transpired within its marbled jaws; she weighed her eldest's concerns with sensitive consideration, grateful that the girl had chosen to articulate her fears instead of guard them. Learning that she and Jude were not full-blooded siblings, and that he was on the brink of being adopted alone, albeit with her consent, undoubtedly left the adolescent feeling as desperately deserted as she must have felt when she first wound up on their doorstep. The worst-case scenario, which Stef predicted her daughter was instinctively expecting, included this newfound father not only refusing to sign the paperwork allowing for Callie's adoption, but also ripping her from the Foster's home and, consequently, from her little brother, the only faithful constant in her short and turbulent existence. Starting this fight meant potentially suffering defeat, and Callie was already battle-weary. Running from a new war appeared to be a smarter alternative than possibly perishing in it. But, dodging the conflict also meant that Callie would never truly win her separate peace. She would always live in limbo, remain unsettled and flighty, be distrustful of others, struggle to commit. No, Callie needed the formality as much as Stef and Lena did. They all deserved their day in court, even if it wasn't how or when they had anticipated.

"You never give up; you hear me, love? In this family, when one of us is tired, then someone else carries them. Sometimes we just have to wait for our luck to turn. You are not alone anymore, Callie, and, _no matter what_ _happens_, you are a member of this family, the same as Jude, Brandon, Jesus and Mariana." She grasped the girl's fingers once more. "You can never escape your family," Stef winked in lighthearted honesty now, but her wit fell on deaf ears.

Callie peered at their united palms, drawing strength from the affectionate contact. When she finally spoke, it was a whisper. "That's kind of what I'm afraid of, Stef. Without that piece of paper, you're not my family, but Robert Quinn is, and, apparently, I can't escape that."

"You just hang tight, baby," Stef pressed a kiss to Callie's temple and stood up. "OK?"

Callie nodded, but Stef was already striding determinedly away, plucking at the buttons on her phone.

**A/N:** First of all, thank you all SO MUCH for the kind reviews and for the congratulations on my marriage! I have been swamped planning a big party for August with over 150 guests, so it has been unfortunately consuming a lot of my time. On a positive note, I had an inspiration in regards to where I want this story to go, so I'm anxious to keep updating, and I hope that you stay with me! Sorry that it's so short again!


	5. Chapter 5

Lena smiled as she shut the cell; her wife's quick-thinking sentimentality never ceased to amaze her. She patted Jude's hand softly and slipped out of her seat quietly. The boy was consumed in an animated conversation with Conner, concerning the merits of _Halo_ in comparison to _Grand Theft Auto_, two games which his new parents would never concede to purchase, and he didn't seem overly concerned about his mother and sister's previous departure, which filled Lena with heartening gratitude. He was such a resilient young man. She couldn't be more proud of how he handled each hurdle. After receiving his sibling's blessing and some reassuring hugs from his mama, he had bounded back to his friend, reenergized and unencumbered. Glancing at her son once more as she moved to locate the clerk, Lena sighed in recognition of how much Callie must have sacrificed in order to preserve Jude's sweet and unsullied soul. The adolescent deserved at least this simple gesture in return.

When she met them at the courthouse door five minutes later, Callie was visibly subdued, but Stef detained a familiar fire in the custody of her eyes. Lena knew that look. Her wife burned to set the streets ablaze in righteous protest; she wanted to march down the boulevard blocking their daughter's happiness, flag waving and remonstration spewing. And, although it warmed Lena's heart, she realized that it was her responsibility to prevent reckless behavior, on the part of both her protective wife and her impulsive child. It had always been her role to temper the flames. This time, though, Stef had the right amount of heat in her altruism. It had been easy to agree.

Lena ushered the pair into the waiting conference room now, slipping her arm through Callie's as they crossed the short distance, her heels clapping on the granite tiles.

"What's going on?" The teen inquired as the door clicked closed behind them, her eyes flitting around the four walls, finding the center and focusing. A formidable, scarred mahogany table spanned the width of the room, facing the trio, at which the clerk and a stranger were already settled in authoritative comfort. "Does Jude need to be here?" She questioned shakily, after only a beat of silence, perplexed by the sudden attention. Her heart had clearly filched a spontaneous vacation, and her stomach was forming an angry rebellion. _How could today possibly worsen? _Callie tried to prepare herself for a fresh horror, to steel her fatigued nerves.

"No, Callie. Jude's hearing isn't for another 15 minutes. The judge always asks the family to arrive early. Why don't you all take a seat?" The clerk replied, signaling the available chairs in front.

Obviously stunned, Callie didn't register the moment passing until she felt her foster mothers' fingers, a hand resting on each respective elbow, gently tugging her down into the place between them.

"First of all, Callie," the clerk resumed, "your moms and I have discussed a few possible options in regards to expediting the adoption process, and we have found one viable alternative to tracing Robert Quinn, assuming that you find it to be a favorable course of action." She paused to take note of the girl's reaction. When Callie nodded in passive awareness, she continued with formality, "We can petition the court. Technically, even if Donald Jacob is not a blood relative, he did have a significant hand in raising you. If there is no memory of Robert Quinn, and no acknowledgment of his paternity on the birth certificate, then, by all extensive rights, Mr. Jacob is Callie's legal guardian and should be able to freely extinguish all holds. We will, of course, have to involve Mr. Jacobs in the proceedings, and there is no guarantee that the judge will consent, but I think that we have a strong case here." The clerk clasped her hands on the pile of manila folders before her, peering kindly at Callie.

Lena laid her palm on the teen's slightly hunched shoulder, rubbing in soothing, infinite circles. "Do you understand what she is suggesting, sweetie? Is it something that you would like to pursue?"

The girl looked up at Stef, who was leaning back in the adjoining chair, her arm looped lazily across the back of Callie's seat, and then up at Lena, whose eyes were so patient and so endlessly deep that she wished for a camera to capture the reflection. She would hide the expression in the bookshelves of her memory, in the thin file labeled "Love."

"Yes, I understand. You want to talk to Donald, to see if he can relinquish rights as my father instead of Robert Quinn. We're looking for a loophole. I think that it's a good idea." Callie straightened in her seat and spoke with the confidence that she held in reserve.

"When did you get to be so smart?" Stef chuckled, tousling Callie's hair affectionately and causing the teen to redden in response.

"That's great. We'll contact Donald right away and put things in motion. Now…" the clerk made a show of shuffling through her open briefcase, handing a few papers to the unknown male in the corner. His eyes were a piercing green, an indiscernible jungle, and Callie involuntarily shuttered when they landed on her. _Who was he, and what did he want?_ "… your moms have asked me for some additional goodwill, which I was happy to provide. I daresay, this has to be the most official, unofficial document that I have ever had a hand in creating. You're a lucky girl, Callie. I hope that you know that." The government worker grinned now, emphasizing the laugh lines on her genial features.

Before the teen had a chance to choke on the irony of her previous statement, the clerk slid a fancy piece of parchment across the table, and Stef caught the edge, positioning it so that Callie could read the square paper. It was ornately bordered in blue, and embossed with the judicial markings of San Diego. In the center, letters looped to shape this message:

"You are our daughter, for today and for every tomorrow.

You belong to us, and our hearts belong to you."

There were three neat lines under the text, two for the signatures of her mothers and one for her own. Under those lines, there were two more, but Callie wasn't sure of their purpose, and her eyes were too full of sudden tears to conduct more of an inquisition.

"You should think about it _very_ carefully before signing, kiddo," Lena whispered in the girl's ear, recommencing her maternal massage, "you know how your mom gets sometimes…"

"LENA ELIZABETH," Stef grunted in loud disbelief, "Did I hear you correctly? You listen to me…"

Callie knew that her mom was still ranting with lively abandon, but she lifted her gaze to meet the clerk's in interruption. "May I have a pen, please?" She asked shyly, a small smirk dancing on her lips.

The noises swirled around her, the laughter ebbed and flowed; Callie had found the eye of her hurricane, and she felt anchored in the chaos, safe in this harbor.

She watched as her mothers took turns penning their names in pretty script.

She watched herself scribble on the dotted line: _Callie Adams Foster_.

She watched as the man emerged from shadows and notarized the paper with a flourish, signing and dating the remaining placeholders.

She watched his wild eyes tame in innocent generosity.

She watched herself learn to trust again.

She watched as Jude appeared at the door, calling his family in youthful excitement.

Callie's feet found the floor.

She tucked her security in the folder they had provided.

She followed.


End file.
